


Indulgence

by HitherDither



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Implied Masturbation, Omorashi, Peestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitherDither/pseuds/HitherDither
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are Dave Strider, and you have a piss fetish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgence

Your name is Dave Strider, and you have a strange fixation. You’re not quite sure when it started- you have many memories of sitting in front of your computer or fiddling with your camera while rocking gently in your seat, trying to put off that inevitable trip to the toilet. It was never something that really stood out in your life, at least not until you began entering the wonderful world of puberty.

Now that you sat in your makeshift bed, rubbing your crotch idly and clenching your abdominal muscles, you had to fess up to yourself- this was a fetish. A full blown, unable-to-jack-it-without-it fetish. It burrowed its way into every masturbatory fantasy that crept into your mind, and even the slightest pang from your bladder was enough to put a bulge in the front of your god tier pants.

The first time you’d ever held a hand over your mouth to stifle your grunts as you palmed yourself through your shorts had more to do with drinking too much apple juice than any nudity you’d happened across online. It was bordering painful each time, a heated battle between cumming in your underwear and pissing your pants. Dwelling on the thought of an accident never failed to curl your toes- at least, at first.

After a while, it wasn’t enough. The rush you had felt during the your “sessions” died down, and left you desperately needing more. Periods of experimentation began, you remember doubling the amount of water you drank one day- could you even distinguish the blackness of space as day and night?- and how long you spent squirming on that weird purple toilet before urinating in your own hands. You repeated the venture, but it was only so long before you needed something new.

You found yourself standing in the tub not long after, naked and shivering in the cold, dry air that filled every inch of the fucking place. A sick weight was in your stomach- anxiety, the feeling of taboo- but it was outweighed by curiosity and arousal. Minutes had passed with you shifting foot to foot before you finally turned on the tap to a slow drip. That did it- you remember gnawing your lip as your stream shot down the side of your left leg.

Your watched your dick shift with how forceful you were letting go, and when you reached down and pumped yourself, you aimed to splash piss on the inside of your thighs. It felt thrilling and hot, and became your standard for getting off. You tried different positions: sitting with your legs crossed; laying on your back, then on your stomach (you found out how hard it was to piss while on your stomach, but it was still fun to try).

Once, you even cushioned your shoulders with a towel and tried it nearly upside down. You ended up splashing piss in your eye and getting some in your mouth. It was a venture you never repeated- you’d spent the next hour washing your face and gargling mouthwash. That incident aside, without much to keep your attention on the meteor, you spent at least once a week indulging yourself in your secret habit.

Naked wetting had it’s thrill for a long time, until now. After months of repetition, it was again time to step it up. You now found yourself tense and shirtless, in that bathtub that you’d spent so much time in over the last weeks. It was a particular time of day, between Rose waking up and the trolls beginning to doze- a time that you specifically picked to give you a few extra minutes of cleanup time.

You’d rushed into the bathroom, nervous and excited. The sleep you’d lost for the purpose of downing three bottles of juice was a price you’d gladly pay if this played out like you imagined. Just the thought of what you were about to do sent a thrill up your spine, and you purposefully pushed it all out of your mind before you got too riled up to piss. Standing still in your god tier pants, you took a deep breath and relaxed your muscles.

For a brief, teasing second, you could feel a rush of warmth to the head of your penis- and then nothing. Chewing your lip, you spread your legs a little before trying again. A heavy weight settled in your stomach- your nerves building up a slightly sick feeling at something you’d been taught from childhood to absolutely /never/ do. You forced your breathing to even out, and reached to turn on the bath’s tap.

Hearing the steady drip from the faucet sent a tingling pang to your bladder, and you covered your mouth to stifle a gasp. It took a scant few seconds before you finally felt yourself let go. A streak of almost-black appeared against the red fabric of your pants, and you felt your underwear cling hot against your skin as the urine soaked into it.

God, it was amazing. You cupped yourself through your pants, sending droplets cascading down your fingers onto the hard enamel of the bathtub. Already, enough liquid had collected to make a flowing trail to the drain, and you had plenty left. Rubbing your crotch, you watched a spray of piss dribble straight out of the saturated cloth- it was more satisfying than you could have imagined.

You bore down a little, reveling in how forceful your stream was and just how desperate you had been. If you let yourself get lost in that engulfing feeling of relief and taboo, you might have made yourself too hard to keep pissing. As you watched the wet patch quickly spreading across your legs, however, the universe took a sharp turn against you and your burning desires.

There were times in everyone’s life when the sound of an opening door can stop a heart from beating, and now was one of those moments for you. Having just enough time to turn your head in reaction, you were staring at an equally startled Karkat. His eyes glinted out from under a messy mop of bedhead, and you felt sick twist of your stomach.

You were blessed in this instant, at least in a small way, by the fact that the fiery troll seemed to be absolutely speechless. Your mouth was dry, and you swallowed hard before attempting to spew out any words you could form in your startled state. “The door’s locked,” was all you managed, a failed attempt at conveying your intent. Karkat blinked once, twice, and then stepped back out. The door slammed quickly, and you were left alone again in the bathroom.

It was a small consolation that you, at that moment, finally stopped pissing. Unfortunately, your clinging pants and briefs were already becoming cold and unpleasant, and now you had to content with the awful reality that someone just saw you purposefully peeing yourself. You could have sworn you locked that door, but the proof had already barged in- you had been too excited to tend to that small detail today.

Your pants were shucked off, and you started the shower at full blast. There was no point locking the door now, you’d already been embarrassed to the furthest extent you thought possible. Right now, you’d focus on cleaning up before working on the real damage control. Your name is Dave Strider, you have a piss fetish, and you were never going to live that down.


End file.
